


You belong to me

by erikwhxxt



Series: Phantom, triumphant [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 06:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30135522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikwhxxt/pseuds/erikwhxxt
Summary: "When that time comes. You will belong to me body and soul!"You will belong to me, there is no other option since you have no one but me."Erik will possess it!"
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Series: Phantom, triumphant [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217897
Kudos: 3
Collections: Phantom





	You belong to me

Hardly a door, a reflective glass that it could plummet in just thinking about it.

When you are God you can do whatever you want with your toys, but he couldn't destroy it, him most recent acquisition since he had big plans for it in the future as close as the palm of his hand of to the mirror.

There was a small dusty dressing room close to where the sets of past operas are kept, it was such a small place that initially it had been offered to the prima ballerina to occupy it as her personal dressing table, but it was rejected outright due to the old ghost tale of the opera and how he was stalked by this entity itself and even the rumor spread that Buquet had been caught by the opera ghost in this room, nonsense of the hysterical ushers who should be busy keeping the place impeccable instead of gossiping.

That dressing room by in time had occupied the warehouse position of changing rooms from seasons of previous years, forgotten waiting for the company to permanently forget them at some point, but he now had more promising plans for this one, perhaps if he put more pressure on the director, perhabs he would be driven by his waste of money to move La Carlotta to a place where he is more easily prey to his tricks more often, that way he would not have to go through half the theater hunting the diva as if that witch she was a screaming little rodent, it was exhausting to force her to leave the company but there was no other way.

Looking further he made sure that perhaps this mirror would fit effortlessly into the hole where a full mirror had been before, he could install it when the corresponding enablement repairs for this cheeky diva will be finished since they could end up discarding what he thinks is just an old and impaled mirror, none of that, I would replace it with the diva as soon as they get distracted.

The false ghost approached his work table in his underground room beginning his task of writing his threatening monthly letters to the director, with aggressive language, he wrote in ink on paper something that would scare even the skeptical Carlotta, no one would hesitate of his supposed anger (which he expressed with amusement from a sultan at the time when writing).

Upon finishing his writing, he sealed these letters and began to run his errands, left the director's letter on his desk after he went home, then he entered through a compartment in the wall that was of the personal use of it.

He decided that it was time, near dawn, to stroll through the boxes quietly without waiting to meet some absent-minded who remained locked inside, although he doubted that would happen because only the ballet rats stayed in the bedrooms of which they did not they went out to venture out of fear of the absurd stories and legends invented regarding their image.

With him carrying some drawing instruments along with a small gas lamp, he planned to sit comfortably in the box five while enjoying the familiar darkness and reassuring silence of the opera.

After finding his box, he entered it by simply turning the knob, he entered it leaving his hat hanging and then sitting in the only place that was available, only for him.

It had been a satisfying night from which he expected good news later, so he preferred to celebrate with paper and graphite in his hands, enough for a solitary work.

After being approximately thirty minutes in absolute darkness, I heard a couple of footsteps that warned him of the arrival of possibly an intruder. He turned off the gas lamp as soon as he felt the first signs of life from him.

Quickly his hand of him went to the lasso that rested under his jacket of him, he was ready to regain that loneliness that he had lost because of that outcast, even if there was one more body that incriminated him, he was threatened by the unknown .

He kept hearing footsteps and was ready to jump out of the box to attack, but he couldn't do it, he stayed purely still when he spotted a girl, oh it was just a girl

A ballet rat? It could not be if they already knew perfectly what could happen to whoever will meet the phantom of the opera, was she lost? It did not seem like it, judging by her calm posture but her slightly trembling and careful steps, she was more concerned about falling three meters from the orchestra pit than about finding a ghost perhaps the product of the imagination of her companions and a alcoholic stagehand.

She was short, with long brown curls that were against her, loose and without any mercy for how disarranged they were in her little head. She was wearing street clothes so she might have been in this one recently, although she didn't think Madame Giry had let one of her rats out so late.

The unknown girl had her back to him when she turned around and she found a pair of sparkling sapphires on her face de ella, a pair of large eyes so rebellious that they contrasted with her innocent and sweet expression, she was scared.

His heart throbbed into him and perhaps something more than that, the milky skin and pink lips de ella perhaps were awakening more than interest in him, the shameful part of him that stood still as much as he tried not to think inappropriately for that girl.

But she did, while she with one hand squeezed the hardness of him that hardened in his pants, he tried to silence his noisy breathing for him arousal, he was not like this.

The girl joined her hands. walking carefully across the stage, pensive, biting her lips a couple of times indecisively without knowing what his reaction caused in looking at such gestures of pure naivety typical of the age of a young woman from her bearing of it.

She then did something unpredictable, she approached the center and began to sing in an unknown language for her masterful knowledge, although her voice of her was poorly trained and somewhat rough hiding something there, a potential, like a jewel that has not been found.

She sang and sang, and he wanted to sing along with her.

Before he could even realize it, he felt pangs of something that he could predict was a climax, he looked at her girl's hands and thought about how she could free him—

She was gone when she was aware of the moisture that was spilled on her pants de ella.

That young girl made him experience a series of insensitive things for the person, she had taken away any spoil of what she had..

To hell with La Carlotta, to hell with the opera, to hell with everyone, he needed to see her again!

He would go for the letter and destroy it, before dawn she would return to he house underground, hewould rewrite the letter with essential changes, he would not have a good reason or excuse but no one could stop her at that moment! He would leave it on the principal's desk waiting for a prompt reply.

Erik will own it!


End file.
